The Grand BeefStock Collection of Assorted Goods
by NationalistHour
Summary: Just a little side-project by a retired roleplayer. Might update here and there, but I can't promise anything.
1. For the Last Time

"Curtis, it's about time you retired."

Yeah, it sure was. I had been doing this for more than just a handful of years now. The toll it had taken on my mind was undeniable. But I just couldn't. No matter how hard I tried, tried to close out those dozens of tabs, to log out for that final time and forget. I couldn't. Every single time I called it quits and made for the door, SOMETHING kept calling me back. It couldn't be explained. Maybe I still had some unfinished business. Maybe someone really needed my help. Maybe I just needed to make one of my proxies vanish, creating a black hole in cyberspace, and slowly disappear from my old friends' minds, then start all over with a whole new proxy, as a whole new person.

"You've done your best. But it's time to give it up. It's over."

I knew that. Of course I did. I had uncovered that ugly truth the day I came back from the big empty, all those years ago. The Golden Age was over. Long over. And I had missed out on it. There was nothing left. No friends. No allies. Nothing but the small embers, desperately trying to stay lit, but ultimately burning themselves away in the process, eventually becoming a cold dead piece of charcoal. Sure, a fire might roar to life here and there, but they're always smothered by ashes and blown out by wind. Yet, I desperately stayed behind, frantically sifting through the lifeless remains of those countless dead embers. I've tried my damndest to keep the few that I managed to wrestle back to life in a protected state, safe from any harm that might have fallen upon them, extinguishing their dull light. But in the end, they all went dead. There was nothing left to keep them burning.

"Are you listening, Curtis?"

I was. As much as I hated to admit it, I heard and understood every word, even those that remained unspoken. I already knew. It hurt. It stung. It brought water to my tired eyes. But no amount of emotion, nor tears, could change the truth. The reality, that I had denied and avoided for all this time. I had fought against it. I tried everything I could, used all the tricks up my sleeve, pulled every rabbit from my hat. But it never changed. And it never slowed. As unstoppable as the steady march of time, the end neared. And people left. I cannot say the same for them, but I never forgot a single one. Even in my everyday life, I remembered them. I remembered their names, their pictures, their posts, their characters.

"Look, I'm heading out. Close up the office when you're done, alright? This will be the last time it closes after all. I think letting the veteran have the honors would only be right."

All of it. [REDACTED]. A close friend, unlike any other. The one that brought me here and gave me direction. And my brother. Complete UI. A comrade in arms, unmistakable in typing, and with dreams that could only be described as insanity, should a single one be brought to life. Chaos. Ruler and commander, an inspiration for me, and the one who truly brought me to improve my skill. Fall, of the lesser known. I only knew them briefly, but was impressed nonetheless. Had I been given more time to spare, I would have enjoyed creating a story with you. TonOCreep, the object of my admiration. I had long enjoyed your posts. The boldness of them, how unafraid of the reply you were, and how creative your story had been. Johuoy. Unforgettable characters, one of which had truly given me the spark to continue. Ah, I still remember that shield bash. How confused and angry I had been, thinking to myself, 'How dare she force a hit! Unforgivable!'. FlamingSand. The creator. Had it not been for you, none of this would have happened. I would have grown old and miserable, with no happy memories to look back on. Though we have never truly met in post or in person, I can still proudly say that I'm glad we have met.

The jingle of a bell had reached my ears, followed by a door closing. Though it had been open briefly, the cold bite of winter had still managed to slip through, chilling the darkened office even more. The room was completely dark, except for the dull blue glow from my computer screen. Looking at it hurt my eyes. It was the brightest light in the room after all. But, even as my eyes stung and clouded up again, they focused on a single title, boldly standing out against a white screen. A title that would be easy to remember and hard to forget. The title that started it all.

LDATL

Through tears, I smiled. It was like a curse. I couldn't look away, even as my eyes dumped salty water down my wrinkled and worn cheeks. I moved my mouse, watching the cursor slowly move up and over towards my name, 'Sum Umbra Ego'. And logged out. The screen changed, spending the briefest of moments on a blank white screen, before loading into the login screen. My eyes looked over the Captcha beneath the 'Password' tab, reading over the line of letters and numbers over and over, as I had so often done before. G6Y9N. The smile slowly faded. Moving the mouse again, momentarily looking over at the flashing red light that said mouse had begun blinking at me, signifying low battery, I hovered my cursor over the large red X at the top right of my browser.

Click.


	2. Grim Fate Ahead

Ash, so soft, so pale, and so rancid, slowly drift down from a crimson, violently swirling sky, flashes of lightning like veins of purple on the beating heart of the heavens above. The air was heavy and humid, ripe with the stench of burning flesh, burning land, and burning fuel. Everywhere one looked, their eyes were met with that blood-red coloring. It was in the sky and the air around them. It made up the horribly jagged rocks and spires that jutted from the blood-red earth, as if in an attempt to drive a thorn into the sky. It was even in the bones and corpses that littered the dry, hardened land around them. The only contrast? That ash. The same stuff that had been drifting down days on end. It landed on the ground and covered it like a hot snow, making dusty trails in the footsteps of the few people alive to pass through it. Yet, even as the ash grew ever more abundant, it somehow failed to catch in the breathing ways of those few people. Never being inhaled, or choked on, nor being present enough to cause a coughing fit, unless one outright ate a handful.

Then the world stood still. The ash froze mid flight. The trails of smoke off in the distance stopped their upward flow, the land below their feet quickly becoming undisturbed by their movement, as if they had never been there. That trail of half-dried blood, which had previously been letting loose a drop here or there as it flowed down a particularly jagged spire where a corpse had been hung just moments ago, stopped. A single drop was preserved in the air, still in perfect form and shape. And yet, the people remained unaffected. They still moved and murmured, shapes obscured by robes and hoods, all of which were ragged and worn. These people in particular were special, for sure. Their very existence in this realm was a sure sign of something, but what it was isn't an easy answer to come upon these days. Maybe it was good, maybe it was bad. The group was composed of four figures, with a single fifth figure in the center. They were in a cube-like formation, with arms hidden beneath their clothing, standing completely still and straight up.

Their voices, previously having been little more than a murmur silenced by the gentle wind blowing ash around, slowly began to build in volume, filling the sudden silence that had filled this part of the world. Then it stopped. One by one, the four kneeled, their backs to the center figure, and dropped the hoods that covered their heads. Their faces and heads, all completely clean shaven, lacking even eyebrows or eyelashes, seemed to be the exact same color as the rest of this place. Red. The figure in the middle slowly started to shift, arms moving slowly beneath their robes, and turned to the first of the four.

"B̸̛̳̜̥͕͒̈́́̎͑͘͜͝l̸̝̎̔͐̿͝͝ȇ̷͖̈̏ŝ̸̢͔̻̟̼͔͋͛̉͆͘͜͝ŝ̷̲̖͂̈́͗̑̏̔́͘ͅẹ̵̡̧̇͋͐͌̎̄̇̽̌̀̍̓̒̉͜d̵̛͕̙̠̦͈̝̩̱͋̏̋̀͐͛̾̕̚͠ ̴̼̹̥̤͓͍̥̱̯̐̎͗̚͠"

A flash of light and flame burst from a shiny object in the center figure's hand, and the first figure's skull ripped open, brain matter and gore splattering and spilling out onto the ground. Their body slumped quickly, leaking blood and fluids. The remaining three figures did not even flinch at the sound, now clearly a gunshot, and remained unblinking, even as the center figure turned to the fourth's kneeling figure.

"B̶̡͐͋̋͐̌̌̀̋͋̕e̸̛͇̼͍̓̀͛"

Another flash, and more disgusting gore painted the earth a deeper shade of red. The fifth slowly turned to the second.

"T̶̛̛̬̖͕́͑̏̾̊̅̔̍́́̚͘̕h̸̘̱̀͊ȩ̸̨̲̜͉͍̼̫̩̰̔͆̌̈́̏̐̂͆͊̄̿̔̕͜͠"

The third shot rang out, and less than an eighth of the second's smaller head remained.

"F̸̧̨̧̨̙͍͕̘̱͎̙͈̑͌͐̅̓̇̌̑͠͝͠ơ̶̢̢̖̟͖̙͍̭͉̘̖̜̻͗́̑̈́͐̐r̷͗̽̾ͅg̴̮̓̐͌̀́͠ò̴̢̢͓̟͍͙͉̫̀ţ̷̠͕͕̥͕̠̹͙̾̍̽͐̌́͊͛̽̾̅̑̏͘t̷̨̬͓̩̭̭͕̖͎̲̖̲̼͐̉̿͂͒̾̎̐̋̀̈́͘͜é̷̡̢̟̮̖͙̥̫̪̍͊͌̈́̅̽̏͛̈̃̉͠͠͝ǹ̷̛̪͕̩̘͔͓͉̖͉̞̥̖̽́̈́͑͐̑̊̇̿͛͜͝"

The third and the fifth were the last two figure remaining. But soon, after the final shot and the sound of a body slumping to the earth as that shot echoed around the frozen world, only the fifth figure was left. The final robed figure sighed, and crushed the firearm in their hands, metal crunching and groaning as twin hands, each easily the size of two massive pancakes, flattened and twisted the metal as if it were a can. Gunpowder softly slid out of those two hands and onto the bloodied ground, quickly followed by the remains of a smashed handgun as the figure opened their hands and let it drop.

Then the world unfroze.

The earth rumbled and cracked, groaning and hissing as it shook. Massive splits appeared here and there, akin to breaking ice, and began to emit a brilliant white light.

Somewhere, nearly fifteen kilometers away, four people burst into existence in a clearing, devoid of corpse, stone, or spire, all that could be found was the ever present ash, and the other person.


End file.
